Zutara Week 2016
by Rain of the Stars
Summary: A collection of stories celebrating Zutara. Day Four: Lilacs- A little tale on the Reign of the Lilac Monarchs. Day Five: Fever- The scariest moment of Zuko's life is when his daughter takes ill.
1. Dragons

Dragons were the oldest beings and, therefore, had the deepest souls. At least, that is what Uncle always said to Zuko. Zuko hadn't really thought much of it at all until he met the Ancient Ones with Aang. After that moment, Uncle's words would never leave him alone. " _The Deepest Souls_ …" It was like the title of some horrible romance scroll that Ty Lee would moon over in the library.

What even made a soul deep? Zuko had been chasing after that answer for a while now. Ever since he had beaten Azula and became Fire Lord, he had been wondering what qualified as a deep soul. Did Aang have one because he was the Avatar? Did his mother have one because of the depth of her love even through exile?

Zuko was pondering the idea of a "deep soul" when it was announced that the Gaang had arrived. All of a sudden, Zuko grinned like a child and rushed towards the gardens where he knew Appa would have landed. The servants all stared after their normally stoic Fire Lord racing through the palace. Then, soft chuckles would follow. The servants always seemed to like when Zuko showed his youth.

"Zuko!" It was Suki's voice that greeted him first. The wail of her newborn son immediately followed. Sokka and Suki had barely been married six months when they had announced that they would be having their first child. Zuko had received the scroll with elation.

"Hey Suki! Sokka! So this is Hakoda." The infant raised his arms towards Zuko and the Fire Lord happily took him from his mother. "So the first kid finally arrives."

"All right, Sparky. Don't give all your attention to the newbie."

"Good to see you too, Toph and Aang."

The Fire Lord shook the Avatar's hand. Zuko took note of the way Aang's arm loosely wrapped itself around Toph's waist. It was about time. After all… Aang and Katara had broken up two years ago and Toph's feelings had always been clear. The thought of the waterbender made Zuko look around. "Where's Katara?"

"She's coming on a ship," Sokka shrugged. "She had business to finish up with in Omashu so she said she'd catch up with us. I think she's arriving around dawn tomorrow."

"I can go meet her at the docks. You all will want to get some rest after a long couple of days traveling," Zuko offered. He would be more than happy to meet Katara at the docks. It had been almost a year since he had seen her. He had missed the annual summer trip to Ember Island. He had been en route when a rebellion had broken out. It was pretty much the only thing that could possibly keep him from a vacation with the Gaang.

"That'd be great, Zuko. Thanks," Aang replied as Sokka yawned obnoxiously... Some things never changed.

~.~

The next morning, Zuko woke before dawn and snuck out of his own palace. It really did get exhausting to be constantly followed by guards so he dressed in the kind of simple clothes that he had worn during the war, pulling his hood high over his head to cover his scar in the shadows.

When he reached the docks, he couldn't help but feel anxious. It was a strange feeling. Katara was his favorite sparring partner. The warrior he could most rely on in a battle. The healer who saved his life more times than he could count. They knew everything about one another and yet he was nervous.

As the sun rose, a ship pulled into port. Zuko felt himself straighten in anticipation and before he knew it, there she was. The rays of the rising sun glinted off the cool sea to bathe Katara in a heavenly glow. She was squinting, looking out for the welcome party Zuko knew she was expecting. Like him, she was garbed in simple clothing. The blue dress she wore was loose, yet hit every curve. Then, her cerulean eyes met his amber ones. In that moment, Zuko suddenly understood what "the deepest souls" was really about.

It was about the people in your life. The deep souls were the ones who brought people to them without even trying. They were the ones who understood that they were part of the world and who understood their place in it.

The deepest of souls were the ones were deep souls with a singular soulmate. And for the first time, Zuko knew why his uncle always compared him to a dragon. It had taken Zuko a while to understand where he belonged in the world, but once he became Fire Lord, he had embraced his role as protector, yet he had never felt complete. All the meetings. All the people. All the battles. He understood what he needed to do as a commander, but every success had missed something. It had missed Katara. It had missed the gentleness that surrounded the waterbender. He needed her calm. He needed her ferocity. He needed her. Diplomatic protocol be damned.

As Katara reached Zuko, he took two quick steps toward her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. The waterbender tensed in surprise before quickly falling into his embrace. She knew what he knew. Maybe she had known all along. Zuko didn't care. What mattered was that they had found each other now.

~.~

The Ancient Ones had been red and blue. There is a balance in the world. Yin and Yang. Zuko and Katara fit into the balance the Ancient Ones had shown Zuko in the flames. Zuko hadn't known that they had opened up such a secret part of him. That secret part had given new power to his firebending. It gave him the strength to lead. And it opened his heart to being loved.


	2. Reincarnation

**Reincarnation**

Sometimes the greatest love stories of our lifetime transcend to legend. When that happens, the lovers become greater than a story; they are fated to exist in perpetuity. This is the story of two such souls…

~.~

Scheherazade took a deep breath. She was to wed the King Shahryar; the monster who had his virgin brides executed the very day after he married them. For an educated woman like Scheherazade, this was not the way she had expected her life to go. She had wanted to live a life in the shadows with her books. She was outraged, but she would do her duty. If she didn't, her father and brother could be put in grave danger.

So on her wedding day, Scheherazade garbed herself in rich blue and gold. It was hardly a rebellion to refuse to wear her soon-to-be husband's preferred color of red, but she hoped it would be a statement to all that she would die as Scheherazade and not as a frightened girl.

Glancing at her new husband now, Scheherazade was shocked to see the left side of his ace marred by a scar. But what shocked her more was how handsome she found him. If she had been seeking a husband, she might actually have been happy. Though she found her mind changing again as King Shahryar barely spoke to her throughout the ceremony and the banquet. Even if she wasn't supposed to die tomorrow morning, Scheherazade couldn't see how this could ever be a happy marriage.

When it came time for him to consummate their marriage, he gruffly told her to say her goodbyes. Scheherazade nodded, holding back tears and embraced her father and brother one more time. She then followed her husband to their tent.

Shahryar did not say a word to her as he flung himself onto the cushions. Scheherazade awkwardly began to remove her headdress, uncertain of what a new bride should do in this kind of situation. How could consummating a marriage even matter if she was condemned to die at dawn?

"Don't bother," the King suddenly said. His eyes were trained on the ceiling. He oozed nonchalance, but Scheherazade knew that he could sense every movement. He was watching her even if his eyes weren't focused on her specifically.

"What does your majesty want of me?"

"To stay quiet and leave me to sleep peacefully before I kill you tomorrow at dawn." It was as though he was telling her what he wanted for breakfast tomorrow. The young bride was not going to have any of this.

"Look here. You may want a new bride at dawn, but I refuse to sit here like a statue you just bought at a bazaar. I am a human being and your wife and I demand that you treat me with the respect that is accorded to my status; even if you will have me executed at dawn." She was standing over him, practically growling at him. Scheherazade could barely contain her fury.

"Then, tell me a story." There was only a quiet request in his words. The King did not expect a challenge and Scheherazade, stunned by the request, seated herself on the cushions beside her husband and began to weave an old legend her mother had told her back when she was still alive.

"Once, the world was divided into four nations, each related to an element: fire, water, earth, and air. What bound them all together was a spiritual leader called the Avatar…"

~.~

King Shahryar was shocked to find himself enthralled by his new bride's tale. It had everything a story should: bravery, friendship, love. And all the while, he couldn't take his eyes off the woman telling the story.

All too soon, Scheherazade halted. "Your Majesty, it's dawn."

"You have yet to finish the tale. What happens when Prince Zuko arrives at the South Pole?"

"I thought you were going to have me killed at dawn."

"I want to know how the story ends."

Scheherazade gave her husband a wry smile. "Then let me sleep so I may do the story justice when you come back to our tent tonight."

Shahryar did not hesitate. "Sleep well. I shall see you after sunset."

When he opened the tent flap and exited, he found the whole court waiting with somber eyes. The executioner stepped forward. "Your Majesty…"

"I have no use for your services today. Nobody is to disturb my bride. She requires her sleep." Ignoring the shocked looks around him, he strode forward to speak to his vizier for trade.

Throughout the day, the King could hardly focus. He couldn't wait until Scheherazade continued her story. There was something refreshing about the young woman. She would die when the story was over, but she was the first woman since his first wife to capture his attention.

Little did Shahryar know, the young woman would continue to captivate him with her tale for another fifty nights.

On the fiftieth night, Scheherazade finished her tale of the Avatar and his Gaang. Shahryar could see that she was sad and nervous. For some reason, he didn't want that for her.

"Tell me about yourself."

His wife's head shot up and she stared at him in disbelief before smiling softly. "My mother died at a young age so I became the mother of my family when I was six years old. My father always allowed me to have more independence than most women today would be accorded. I was educated in all fields, though my love is in analyzing wars."

"Analyzing wars?" Shahryar was shocked. Warfare was for men. Women should tremble at the very word "war", and yet this spectacularly surprising woman was smiling at him as though she had declared the normal love of weaving.

"I despise warfare. I want to understand what causes wars and how they could be prevented," She explained.

Shahryar narrowed his eyes and decided to test her. Every question he threw her way, she answered intelligently and often made _him_ think and falter in his responses.

Soon, every night was a mix of childhood stories and arguments. The intellectual challenges intermingled with stories of food fights and first loves caused the King to realize that he and his brides were friends. He couldn't remember the last time he had a true friend. He was becoming less and less certain that he could kill her one day. In fact, the thought of her dying sent a pang through his heart, giving him physical pain.

~.~

Scheherazade was still shocked that she hadn't died. Technically, their marriage had not been consummated, but Shahryar was treating her like a wife… like more than a wife. He gave her respect and asked her opinion. Scheherazade had never thought a marriage could be this rewarding. But she was still waiting for her death.

On the one thousand and first night, Shahryar asked her about her first love.

"He was a rascal. I was the unattainable woman. The one who rejected all romantic offers at first sight. But he got to me." Scheherazade shrugged. "I was young. I fell for him. But he didn't last long. I realized that he was trying to win me over on a bet. Even though he insisted that things were different and that he had fallen for me, everything had been ruined. What about you?"

Her husband took a deep breath. "My first love was my first wife. She was stoic and I loved it. I lose my head so easily and she was calm. Not a princess, but a noblewoman regardless. I loved her so deeply until I heard a strange sound from my most trusted adviser's tent. I entered to find her legs spread for my best friend. I had them both killed. It was never my intention to remarry, but I was told that as king I had to. So I married every night and killed the woman the next morning. It was brutal and I never slept with any of them, but it was too painful for me to stay with them."

"Don't you think it was cruel to kill them?"

"I didn't know how to marry and trust another woman."

"And me?"

Shahryar put his hand on her face and Scheherazade found herself leaning into his embrace. After a moment, he told her in a quiet tone, "I don't know how I ever lived without you."

They stared into each other's eyes and Scheherazade couldn't understand why, but their faces kept approaching one another. And then he kissed her and her whole world exploded. She didn't understand how she had ever lived without him. She didn't know when it had started, but she had fallen in love with him.

"I love you, Shahryar…" She tried to find words to better explain herself, but Shahryar stopped her.

"I love you, Scheherazade. Please, don't leave me. Don't ever leave."

That night they consummated their marriage and at dawn Scheherazade was formally crowned as his Queen. The whole nation was shocked to find that Scheherazade would last. She was their Queen. Pretty soon, they had all fallen in love with her as they entered a realm of unprecedented prosperity. Every young man and woman dreamed of having a love like the kind openly shown by their King and Queen.

~.~

"Why do you always try to kill me in every story line? It's Shahryar and Scheherazade or then it's Paris and Helen or then it's someone else. Why, Zuko?"

"Because I'm an idiot who always thinks I can live with just my honor until you change my whole world."

Katara smiled at Zuko. "We're pretty badass in every reincarnation, aren't we?"

"At least, you are," the former Fire Lord smiled as he pulled her into a deep kiss.


	3. Memories

**Memories**

Sometimes it doesn't work. And that is the hardest thing to accept. Katara had tried so hard for so long to make it work. But sometimes things just don't work. They had been caught in a cycle. They had gotten together. Broken up. Done friends with benefits. Gotten back together. Broken up all over again. Done friends with benefits again. There was so much chemistry and attraction there. It was palpable, but they were so different. Too different on the things that mattered.

She could remember the first time she saw him. He took her breath away, even though he never should have been able to do that. She wanted him more than she had wanted anyone else before. As they became friends, they discovered that they shared some of the same interests. But at the end of the day their conversation had lacked. She couldn't help it. She kept her guard up because she never wanted to get hurt. He had a fiery passion that destroyed so many of the things around them. They had been there for each other through so much. They had leaned on each other for support. For two years, they were not just lovers on and off. They were best friends.

Katara had fallen in love when they were dating for the second time. But he was never able to love her back. He wanted to and, in his own way, he did love her. Try as they might though, they were not compatible. She wanted someone who read. He wanted someone as interested in the political world as him. Not that he had much of a choice. She wanted the freedom to travel. He didn't have a choice in the matter.

They were similar enough to keep the cycle going, but inevitably the end had to come. So they spent a day together talking and crying. It wasn't fair. Neither of them had felt this kind of chemistry with anyone else, but he could never love her the way she deserved to be love and she could not adjust her interests to be compatible to his. They had needed each other for two years, but their time was up. She would be living off of the memories for the rest of her life.

"Goodbye Zuko. I love you."

 _AN: This is, admittedly, a very personal and very old drabble I wrote. I had intended on expanding it into a one shot, but I found it to be complete in its drabble form when I wrote this over a year ago. I never knew how to share it until now when this Zutara week provided me with the perfect prompt. Please forgive the more somber tone._


	4. Lilac

**Lilac**

"No. Fire lilies are a symbol of the Fire Nation. If you won't have ice roses, then I will not have Fire lilies. This is a marriage between nations, Zuko."

"Well, if neither of us is going to have the traditional flowers, what are we going to do "You know what? Let's come back to the flower issue. All the other decorations are set. What should we do about the food?"

"Lots of chili flakes."

"Only if there are sea prunes."

"Sea prunes for an appetizer and your choice of meat with chili flakes?"

"Look! We can compromise."

"Your smile is beautiful."

Uncle Iroh walked into the room and casually interrupted. "You should have lilacs. It is the balance of yin and yang. Of your fire, Zuko, with your water, Katara."

The young couple smiled at each other. From then on, Zuko would bring Katara lilacs on their anniversary. At every event they held, there were lilacs. Even when they died of old age, buried side by side, their children would only ever bring lilacs to their graves. Their reign was written in history as the Age of the Lilac Monarchs. No Fire Lord and Lady before or after them was regarded with as much love as Zuko and Katara.


	5. Fever

**Fever**

The scariest moment of Zuko's life was when their daughter had a fever. Katara had rushed to Izumi's bedroom and banned Zuko from entering. He was pacing back and forth, trying to remember what it felt like to breathe.

Their little girl was so strong. He could never remember her having the slightest cough and now she was bedridden. He barely saw his wife. The Fire Lady wasn't the type to take the back seat and if anyone could help their daughter recover, it was Katara. There was no better healer in the world.

When Katara finally opened the door to beckon Zuko in to their daughter's bedroom, he held his breath. Katara put a slim finger against her lips to tell him to be quiet. He supposed that was a good sign, but truly he didn't know what to expect.

Katara offered him a reassuring smile as she took his hand and led him to Izumi's bedside. There she was. His precious princess was curled up, asleep with a scroll in her arms as per usual. Zuko felt himself breathe out in relief.

The Fire Lord released his wife's hands and went to sit by his daughter's bedside. Throughout the night, he petted her head and kissed her hands, cheeks, forehead, and anywhere else. He thanked Agni a hundred times over that his beloved girl was saved. Katara eventually fell asleep with her head in his lap, exhausted from the long two days she had spent healing their daughter.

When Izumi woke, she blinked at her father before a small smile broke onto her face. "Daddy, can I have some water."

Zuko smiled softly back at his daughter. "Of course, darling. Anything for my princess." He gently lifted Katara's head and rested her back on the cushion as he rose to pour some water.

"Daddy, I met Uncle Iroh."

Zuko froze. His Uncle had passed away just before Izumi was born. Iroh had chosen the name for his daughter.

"Daddy, Uncle Iroh told me that I had a lot more to do and that I would be Fire Lord. Does that mean my husband will be the Fire Lady?" Izumi giggled at the thought.

Zuko eased into another smile. "I don't know. I suppose he would take any title you wished to bestow upon him."

"Maybe Dragon Lord? My true love will be handsome and powerful like me so he should have a good name!" The little girl giggled.

Katara opened her eyes, waking at the sound of her daughter's laughter. "Did someone say Dragon Lord?" She yawned.

"Mommy, shouldn't I call my future husband the Dragon Lord if I'm going to take the title of Fire Lord?" Izumi reached her hands out to her mother in excitement, making Zuko's heart soften.

"I think that's a fantastic idea, Izumi!" Katara exclaimed as she sat down on the bed and started to stroke her daughter's hair.

Zuko walked over to the bed with Izumi's water, offering her a sip before setting down the glass and pulling his two girls into a hug.

"You know, I love you both more than anything in this world," he murmured.

Izumi looked up at him with bright eyes. "Don't worry about me, Daddy. No fever will take me away from you. I have Mommy here. And Uncle Iroh promised that I would become a great Fire Lady and a wonderful son that will help the next Avatar!"

Zuko groaned a little. "You, young lady, are not allowed to grow up. You are going to stay a little girl forever."

Izumi gave a little giggle as Katara rolled her eyes at her husband. Zuko gave her an apologetic glance. He should have known better than to doubt his wife's abilities. Izumi was right. No fever would take his daughter away from him.


End file.
